


The Nail

by eightofcoins



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Rocks Fall Everyone Dies, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-07
Updated: 2012-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-30 18:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eightofcoins/pseuds/eightofcoins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Souji's parents never went overseas, so Souji never went to Inaba?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nail

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt**   
> _After his parent's year abroad falls through due to the recession, Souji never moves to Inaba. As the year progresses, he follows the news as Inaba's serial killer murder mystery grips Japan._
> 
> _(Maybe Nanako-chan is eventually sent away to live with him and his family?)_
> 
> <http://badx2bathhouse.livejournal.com/543.html?thread=258847#t258847>

  
“Ryotaro, please don’t overwork yourself... I know this is a terrible case, but remember Nanako-chan, you’re all she has now... Promise?... Okay, send her our love. Bye-bye, Little Bro.”  
  
Souji got home just in time to hear the end of his mother’s phone conversation. “I’m home, Mother. Is something wrong with Uncle?”  
  
“Welcome home, Souji. It’s nothing... Well, it’s not nothing, but apparently there have been some suspicious deaths in Inaba and your Uncle Ryotaro has his hands full trying to find the culprit. He’s always been married to the job--”  
  
“Haha, just like you, Mother.”  
  
“Yes, well, I guess it’s the Dojima family curse. Anyway, I’m just a little worried about your cousin Nanako, she must be so lonely now that your Aunt Chisato passed away. *sigh* What’s this world coming to? Well, get washed up, dinner is almost ready. I’m afraid it’s nothing fancy.”  
  
“Yes, Mother.”  
  
\---  
  
Dinner in the Seta household that night was much as usual, dominated by Souji’s parents talking about work and punctuated by Souji’s mother expressing her concerns about Uncle Ryotaro to Souji’s father. His father nodded sleepily, having not gotten much sleep that week after pulling a few too many late nights at the office.  
  
“Mmm, that’s terrible, honey. Still, I guess that means Ryotaro doesn’t need to worry about getting laid off, like some people around here,” said Souji’s father.  
  
“Dear, that’s an awful thing to say!”  
  
“Yeah, but it’s lucky I’m even home in time for dinner tonight. The boss has me working late again tomorrow...”  
  
“I know, dear, I know. If only that overseas position I was offered hadn’t been-- Souji, dear, turn up the sound, I think they’re talking about the murders.”  
  
Souji went to increase the volume of the news program on the TV.  
  
“--was previously thought to be an isolated incident in the small town of Inaba is now suspected to be a serial murder case. The death of the first victim, journalist Mayumi Yamano, was speculated to have been related to her affair with Inaba city council secretary Taro Namatame. The death of Saki Konishi, the high school student who found the body, may be an attempt by the killer to silence any witnesses.”  
  
The program cut from the anchor to a shot of detective Dojima in the field, who was bristling at the cameras as he attempted to climb into his car.  
  
“The police have the situation under control. There’s no need for panic or media speculation. Now if you’ll excuse me...”  
  
“Haha, just like Little Bro to be so telegenic. Still, I suppose he knows what he’s doing.”  
  
\---  
  
Souji didn’t usually pay much attention to the news. Nothing reported but tragedies and miseries, small and large. In quiet moments, he would sometimes despair that the truth of the world was too painful to reach out to. It just seemed easier to ignore it.  
  
He wasn’t able to ignore the simultaneous deaths of Yukiko Amagi and Chie Satonaka.  
  
They had disappeared during a sleepover. Had it been a suicide pact? No, their bodies were found in the same bizarre condition that the other victims’ had been, tangled on top of TV antennas.  
  
All the victims had been young women. Was the killer specifically targeting young women? It seemed like an obvious connection.  
  
Souji grew tired of his classmates’ endless theories and gossip concerning the murders. Didn’t they have better things to think about? Couldn’t they leave the dead in peace, instead of making up outlandish stories about them?  
  
Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about it either.  
  
The girls seemed like they had been nice people, good people. He started to read and watch all the news he could about the case, not for the lurid details of their grisly demises, but to learn more about the girls.  
  
Saki Konishi: A third-year high school student, daughter of a local liquor store owner. Yukiko Amagi: A beautiful, smart, popular girl, heiress to a well-known hot springs inn -- an inn made infamous by the death of one the guests, Mayumi Yamano. Chie Satonaka: A spirited and lively girl, well-liked by her classmates, Yukiko’s best friend.  
  
What had life in Inaba been like for them? He had lived in cities all his life; he didn’t hate it, but he didn’t love it either. Millions of things to do, millions of people to ignore. Did these girls like living in a small town where everyone knew your name?  
  
Did Saki want to continue her family business, in the face of the new Junes that was being blamed for ruining the livelihoods of the small businesses in town? She worked at the Junes, it seemed. It must have been hard, to work for the “enemy.” Did Saki ever dream of leaving, to see the world beyond? Maybe she wanted to go to college, or maybe travel overseas, or maybe she really did just want to stay at home with her family. A family that would see her go on ahead of them, to the other shore where they couldn’t reach her while in this life.  
  
What about Yukiko? She had been interviewed on a news special before her death, talking about her family’s inn, the treasure of Inaba. Yukiko seemed like the ideal _yamato nadeshiko_ , elegant in her pink kimono and soft-spoken but with a quiet power behind the words. Souji couldn’t imagine what sort of pressure that would be like, to know that your family’s and town’s prestige was solely on your shoulders. Yukiko seemed like she was ready and able and willing, but did she ever dream of escaping? Did she have hopes and dreams of her own, not those of her family’s? Did she have someone to share her worries and anxieties with?  
  
And what did the future hold for Chie? Chie seemed like she was a free spirit, taking nothing too seriously beyond an affinity for kung fu movies. Chie apparently wanted to be a police officer one day, to help protect the town that she loved and the people that she loved. That seemed really admirable. Souji felt like he could identify with her the most, because they were just two teenaged kids who didn’t have all the answers and whose futures were still uncertain. Teenagers who worried about doing well at school, playing sports, hanging out with friends. The townsfolk had all mentioned that Chie and Yukiko were inseparable.  
  
That must have been nice, to have a best friend to depend on, to protect. Souji felt a pang of envy -- his parents’ jobs had moved him around a lot, so he never really got to put down roots. Eventually, he just stopped trying.  
  
Dammit, for these girls, he would have tried.  
  
\---  
  
Kanji Tatsumi’s death seemed to break the pattern of young women.  
  
At first, everyone seemed to agree on the idea that it was a copycat killing. Kanji Tatsumi was apparently a delinquent, mixed up with the biker scene that was starting to take hold in Inaba. Everyone said the punk must have gotten involved with some of his no good friends in some brawl, and whoever ended up killing him tried to pin the blame on the serial killer.  
  
Still, no one had quite figured out how the bodies were put up on those antennas. There were never any footprints, or tire tracks, or anything else out of place that would suggest that a person had put the bodies up there. There weren’t even any visible injuries on the victims. It was like some sort of macabre magic trick.  
  
It had been hard for Souji to learn much about Kanji. The news seemed to focus on nothing but his connection to bikers and other delinquents. He finally find a tiny article in the local Inaba newspaper from a few months back, where Kanji’s mother had been interviewed about the biker problem.  
  
Instead of bemoaning her son’s supposedly rowdy friends, she made it clear that she was quite proud of him for being a good boy. Those bikers weren’t his friends, she said. He beat the stuffing out of them because they kept her up at night.  
  
Souji couldn’t help but chuckle when he read that. Kanji Tatsumi, that huge, bleached-blond, pierced thug, a mama’s boy? At first, he chalked it up to just a mother’s blind love for her son, an attempt to keep Kanji’s reputation clean. But another small article a few weeks after the first had a quote from a local Chinese restaurant owner, who had nothing but kind words for the boy and repeated that Kanji wasn’t a biker, but one of his best customers!  
  
Souji decided to give Kanji the benefit of the doubt. It was probably hard, being raised by just your mother. It was probably hard, having a family business that was easy to make fun of. And Souji knew something about being misjudged by people.  
  
Most of his classmates seemed to tolerate him well enough, but they always kept him at arm’s-length. _“Oh, look at Souji-sama, he thinks he’s so much better than us.”_ It was true that he got the best test scores and was the star forward on the soccer team, but he never thought he was better. It wasn’t easy for him to be good, he worked damn hard at it.  
  
And yeah, maybe he wasn’t the most open and chatty guy in the world, which led to his reputation as a loner know-it-all. Souji was just tired of being the new transfer student every year or two, of the effort it took to start all those new friendships when they would just be torn away from him again. It wasn’t his parents’ fault, but he sometimes wished they would just stay put for a goddamned change.  
  
Kanji probably felt something like that, of being misjudged. It wouldn’t be easy to make friends when everyone decided beforehand that you were the unfriendly type, as unfair as that was. Kanji was probably a strong person, to be able to endure all of that.  
  
Souji decided that Kanji must have been a man’s man. He could respect that.  
  
\---  
  
It seemed like all of Japan exploded when Rise Kujikawa died.  
  
Risette, dead? The papers and television shows couldn’t have asked for a juicier story.  
  
They dragged out her poor manager into the harsh spotlight of public judgement. “How could you have let her go to Inaba? Didn’t you realize there’s a serial killer there?” they would ask, over and over and over.  
  
And every time, the poor bastard would gamely try to say that Rise had an extensive police guard watching her 24/7, that she insisted on going to Inaba because she had family there, and that this was ultimately a terrible, unforseeable tragedy.  
  
There was a never-ending stream of Risette related media: Biographies that charted her rise from an awkward child to one of Japan’s hottest idols; endless debates between talking heads who argued about the symbolic meaning of the killing of a media star and putting her body on top of TV antennas; retrospective shows that looped her music non-stop. The value of Risette merchandise skyrocketed.  
  
And then there were the fanboys, of which there were a surprisingly large number at Souji’s school. Their wails were endless. Shrines to Risette had appeared everywhere, encrusted with flowers and photos and candles and food offerings.  
  
And yet it seemed to Souji that, despite all this coverage, no one seemed to know a single damn thing about Rise Kujikawa.  
  
Sure, everyone knew Risette’s measurements (a little too well, for Souji’s taste). Sure, everyone knew the lyrics to all of Risette’s songs. Sure, everyone could recite Risette’s birthday and blood type and astrological sign and favorite food.  
  
But who was Rise, the real Rise? Souji didn’t really know, could never really know, but he was pretty sure that she wasn’t Risette. Or at least, Risette and Rise were not exactly the same person, even if they shared parts of the other.  
  
Why had Rise wanted to go to Inaba in the first place? She had said before that she was taking a little break, that she was tired. Souji couldn’t blame her. If he learned anything from those increasingly annoying shows, he knew that Rise Kujikawa was an extremely hard worker. There was always a new album coming out, a new commercial, a new appearance on a show, and the endless concerts.  
  
How could such a thin wisp of a girl do all of that without going insane? Rise must have had enormous reserves of strength underneath that cute exterior. He felt that she would be the type of person who would always stand up, even when exhausted and in the face of death.  
  
Rise had probably fought back, and he hoped that she really messed up her killer. She was probably the sort of girl who didn’t even think about doing it for herself; just like how she poured her heart and soul into pleasing her fans, she probably gave up every last bit of strength to try to prevent anyone else from ever being hurt by that bastard.  
  
Souji hoped that Rise Kujikawa -- not Risette -- somehow could know that he was her number one fan.  
  
\---  
  
The death of Kinshiro Morooka was nearly as ignored as the man himself had been.  
  
The total lack of anything positive about Morooka seemed baffling to Souji. The man couldn’t have been that bad, right? Sure, he had the face of an old _tokusatsu_ monster, but appearances weren’t everything, right? It seemed that no one had any love for the man. He was a hated teacher, a hated colleague, a hated ex-husband.  
  
Even the killer seemed to hate him. Out of all the other victims, Morooka’s was the only one with a visible injury, a brutally cracked skull. The rest had seemingly died much more peacefully.  
  
Maybe if someone just took the time to look under the prickly skin, they would find something admirable. But Souji resigned himself to the fact that no one ever would be able to now.  
  
After the outburst of emotion shown for Risette’s death, Japan just seemed weary of the whole Inaba affair. What had once been a novel, if shockingly ghastly, entertainment was now becoming a tedious embarrassment. What was wrong with the Inaba police? Couldn’t they catch a single killer? How many suspects could there be in such a small town?  
  
Souji’s mother had tried to get in touch with Uncle Ryotaro, to make sure that he was handling the stress of the case well. Every time, though, the Dojima residence’s phone was answered by a sullen Nanako, no matter the time of day.  
  
Every time, Souji’s mother would try her best to connect with Nanako over the phone, to make light and funny conversation, to try to give that little girl some human warmth.  
  
“Goddamn it, Ryotaro, you’d better not be screening your cell phone...” Souji’s mother would mutter as she dialed for the fifth time. “I’m gonna kick your ass the next time I see you...”  
  
Souji just hoped that this Detective Prince that had been sent in by the prefectural headquarters as a special investigator was as good as everyone said, and the case would finally end.  
  
\---  
  
Apparently Naoto Shirogane was really that good, because Mitsuo Kubo was arrested just two days later.  
  
Japan sighed in relief, glad to be finally done with the mess, and finally able to turn their full attention to the rising career of Kanamin, who was headlining a Risette memorial concert series.  
  
\---  
  
A few days later, Souji watched a television interview featuring Naoto. The detective was being congratulated for his expert assistance in resolving the case. Naoto modestly replied that the case was not closed at that time, in light of several inconsistencies. Naoto asserted that Kubo had definitely killed Morooka, but his connection to the other murders was less certain. Following that was a series of softball questions, claiming to reveal the Detective Prince’s true identity.  
  
A few days after that, Souji found himself wondering how the Detective Prince was killed.  
  
He -- no, she, it turned out -- was continuing to investigate the case even after the official police statement had declared the matter closed. Clearly, she was right.  
  
But to be proven correct like that... Souji felt powerless, and a little bit angry, too. Most of the anger was reserved for the killer, but some of it was for Naoto, too.  
  
The police said that she had followed a lead by herself in an unsanctioned personal investigation. How could she be so reckless? Why did she make herself a target by subtly threatening the killer? Couldn’t she have asked for backup? Was she too proud? Wasn’t she smarter than that? Clearly she should have been, to be able to solve so many cases at such a young age.  
  
And to do it while concealing her _true_ identity... Souji wasn’t sure if he admired it or thought it was silly. He could readily understand the reasons why a teenaged girl detective would want to pass as a male, to better fit in with the boys club that was Japan’s police. His mother had told him some pretty wild stories about Uncle Ryotaro’s rookie days.  
  
Maybe if Naoto had been some airheaded dilettante, then the masquerade would have been justified. But it was clear to Souji that Naoto was one of the smartest, strongest, bravest people he had the fortune of learning about.  
  
He devoured accounts about the storied Shirogane family of detectives. Her great-great-grandfather had apparently started the family business, investigating crimes during the Meiji period. Her great-grandfather had a hand in modernizing the police force. Her grandfather was famous for his collaboration with Scotland Yard and the FBI. Both her father and mother were elite detectives, before their tragic untimely deaths.  
  
And now Naoto would be the last in the Shirogane line, her life taken far, far too soon.  
  
Did she ever feel the pressure of living up to her illustrious ancestors? She probably took solace in the fact that she was every bit as good as them. She earned and thoroughly deserved her sobriquet, the Detective Prince.  
  
It didn’t matter that she was girl. Souji hoped she knew that. Being a girl didn’t make her a better detective, nor a worse one. It simply was. If the bastards in the police didn’t see that, it was their own problem, not hers.  
  
But goddamn it, why didn’t they listen to her? If they did, the killer would be behind bars and she would be safe. He would have listened to her, really listened.  
  
That night he had a silly dream about being the Watson to her Holmes. He dreamed that Lestrade tried to shoot him, but she pushed him aside and took the bullet instead. Then the evil inspector jumped into a television while he cradled her lifeless body in his arms and the whole dream made very little sense afterwards.  
  
\---  
  
The nightmare continued.  
  
The most recent victim was Yosuke Hanamura, a second-year high school student and son of the manager of the local Junes. He liked to listen to music and he liked motorcycles. Yosuke had recently been on the news when the media learned of his well-meaning but misguided attempts to organize his peers to investigate the serial murder case that had claimed so many of their classmates.  
  
He personally had lost two of his best friends, Yukiko Amagi and Chie Satonaka; he spoke with surprising eloquence and tenderness about the death of his senpai, Saki Konishi; he had been a huge fan of Risette, and was just beginning to get to know the real Rise Kujikawa; and while he hadn’t known Kanji Tatsumi or Naoto Shirogane very well, they were good people who didn’t deserve to die. Souji was touched when Yosuke even expressed sympathy for Morooka; though Morooka had been a grade-A asshole, he was still a human being.  
  
Souji took an immediate liking to Yosuke, but it had seemed that the boy wasn’t taken very seriously by the rest of his classmates, who showed a shocking apathy to his cause.  
  
Alone, Yosuke tried to make sense of the murders, and had even tried to approach Naoto to offer his assistance, but she was killed before she could take him up on his offer. Alone, he had discovered a link between the murders and the urban legend of the Midnight Channel, but it was too fantastical for anyone else to believe. Alone, he patrolled the streets on his rickety bike, trying desperately to prevent another tragedy. Ultimately, though, his floundering attempts to track down the killer only made him a target.  
  
Again, Souji felt hope elude him. Here was a guy who was brave enough to put word into action, to really live the ideals of justice and honor and service, despite all of his evident flaws and inadequacies. And what was Yosuke rewarded with?  
  
A senseless, meaningless death, all alone.  
 _  
If only I could have helped him,_ thought Souji ruefully. _I would have listened to him. I would have been a partner to him. We could have done it together...  
  
At least he wouldn’t have died alone..._  
  
\---  
  
There was finally some good news, though it was the thinnest silver lining of a giant looming cloud, a cloud much like the fog that had settled over Inaba.  
  
Nanako -- Souji’s own blood -- had almost been kidnapped. Only the merest good fortune had saved her; Uncle Ryotaro was miraculously home that night, and had been quick enough to give the deliveryman a vicious right cross before the bastard could steal Nanako away.  
  
Uncle Ryotaro had been less successful in apprehending the suspect, who immediately jumped into his delivery van and made his getaway. The detective had made a valiant attempt at chasing him, but the suspect somehow managed to get away. When Uncle Ryotaro finally caught up with the van, it was abandoned in an empty parking lot; somehow, the suspect managed to escape in plain sight.  
  
But at least he didn’t get Nanako. And now the police knew their man.  
  
Taro Namatame.  
  
\---  
  
In light of her near-death experience and the increasingly thick fog that was causing health concerns, Uncle Ryotaro felt that it would be safer for Nanako to live with the Setas until the case was closed. After all, he was going to need to spend every waking moment coordinating the search for Namatame, and wouldn’t be able to protect Nanako if the lunatic decided to go after her again.  
  
Souji had wanted to meet Uncle Ryotaro at the train station when he dropped off Nanako with Souji’s parents, but Souji’s soccer team had an important game that day.  
  
When Souji arrived home, he was introduced to his cousin Nanako. She was a cute little girl, but instead of being bubbly and cheerful like a 7-year-old should, she was quiet and sullen.  
  
It was understandable, Souji thought at first. It wouldn’t be easy for a little kid to be left alone in a strange city with a group of perfect strangers with whom she was to live with for an unknown period of time. He tried to imagine what he would feel if the tables were turned, if he were sent to live with his Uncle Ryotaro and Nanako in Inaba. Would it have been home?  
  
But even after polite introductions and his parents had shown Nanako her room, which they had filled up with stuffed animals and toys and snacks, Nanako had merely replied with a small forced smile and asked if she could watch some TV.  
  
“Of course, sweetie! Go downstairs and watch whatever you’d like! We’ll eat dinner soon!” As Nanako quietly walked downstairs, Souji’s mother sighed. “Oh god, Ryotaro, what have you been doing to the poor girl?”  
  
It was more like that he wasn’t doing with the girl, Souji thought.  
  
He could understand. While his parents had never been that bad, Souji could understand the loneliness that Nanako probably felt. His parents had grown increasingly busy as he grew older. He knew they loved him, and he loved them, but he was usually left alone to his own devices as they worked increasingly long hours.  
  
Souji walked downstairs and smiled at Nanako.  
  
“Can I watch with you?”  
  
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, without taking her eyes off the screen.  
  
They sat in silence for a long time as Nanako watched a nature documentary about platypuses. Souji’s mind raced with ideas, of how he could start some small talk with his cousin, but whenever he opened his mouth, nothing would come out.  
  
Finally, Nanako gave him an opening.  
  
“Every day’s great at your Junes~!”  
  
“Huh? Oh, the commercial! Do you like Junes, Nanako-chan?”  
  
“Mm-hmm! It’s great, they’ve got so many cool things there! Daddy took me...” Nanako visibly deflated while she remembered happier times with her father.  
  
“Ah, how about we go to Junes this weekend? There’s a big one not far from here, I’ll take you! How about it, Little Sis?”  
  
“L-Little Sis?”  
  
“Um, you’re a part of our family now, Nanako-chan! So that makes you my Little Sis!”  
  
“Does... Does that make you my Big Bro?”  
  
“It sure does, Nanako-chan.”  
  
Nanako’s wide, genuine smile took his breath away.  
  
\---  
  
The police never got a chance to bring Namatame to justice.  
  
Taro Namatame, presumably out of guilt or remorse or desperation, was found dead just a few days after he tried to kidnap Nanako.  
  
Mysteriously, though, he had somehow managed to place his body on top the antennas, just like all of his previous victims. How he had done it was an ongoing puzzle.  
  
There were so many unanswered questions. It appeared that Namatame had really killed his former lover Mayumi Yamano after all, and had successfully thrown the police off his trail. Then it seemed that he killed Saki to prevent her from telling the police about what she might have witnessed. But then why the others? Why so many?  
  
Naoto and Yosuke made sense later on, when the two had threatened to catch him. But why Yukiko? Why Chie? Certainly they didn’t have anything to do with the first few murders. Why Kanji? He didn’t fit the pattern at all. Why Rise? For fame? Kubo had said he killed Morooka for fame, had Namatame had the same reasons? But he was already famous for all those other murders.  
  
Why Nanako? Why a little girl? Was it because she was the daughter of the lead investigating detective?  
  
Souji racked his mind for explanations, for some common thread that would make sense of the senseless.  
  
He consoled himself with the fact that the ordeal was over, and that maybe Inaba would be at peace at last.  
  
\---  
  
Souji returned home from a fun afternoon at the local Junes with Nanako to find his mother kneeling on the floor in a crumpled heap in their sitting room, with the phone off the hook and silent tears streaming down her face. He rushed down to help her.  
  
“Mother! Mother, what’s wrong! Are you hurt?!”  
  
“Souji, I-- My-- Your--” Souji’s mother caught sight of Nanako, who was hiding behind her Big Bro. “N-Nanako-chan?”  
  
“A-Auntie?”  
  
Souji’s mother reached out for the little girl, whose wide smile from having spent a whole afternoon playing with her Big Bro had turned into a nervous grimace at seeing her aunt crying.  
  
“Come here, sweetie.” Souji’s mother wrapped Nanako in a tight embrace; it seemed almost like the adult needed comforting more than the child. “Nanako-chan, sweetie, I... I got a call today from Inaba.”  
  
“From Daddy? Can I go home?”  
  
“Oh, sweetie...” Souji’s mother almost broke into tears again. “No, dear, not from your father. Um, Nanako-chan, you know that your parents loved you very much, right?”  
  
“Y-Yeah...”  
  
“And they would never, ever want to leave you, Nanako-chan. They loved you so much! And we love you very much, too, sweetie, me and your Uncle Kenji and your Big Bro Souji.”  
  
“I love you, too, Auntie...”  
  
“*sniff* I’m so glad, Nanako-chan. And I want you to know that you’re a part of our family, that you’re not alone. We’ll always take care of you. Because... Because... I’m so sorry, sweetie, I’m so sorry, but your father passed away last night.”  
  
\---  
  
The car trip to Inaba went by in a silent daze. It had only been a few days since the terrible news had arrived, but Souji’s mother organized the funeral plans with the same ruthless efficiency she applied to her corporate job. It had probably been the only thing that kept her going through her little brother’s death.  
  
“Umm, Auntie?”  
  
“Yes, sweetie?”  
  
“I-I need to go to the bathroom.”  
  
“Of course, dear. Kenji, I saw a gas station a few streets back, turn us around.”  
  
The Setas pulled up into a Moel station. While Nanako and Souji’s mother went to the restroom, Souji’s father had the attendant fill up the car while he stepped away to make a phone call. Having nothing better to do, Souji got out of the car and shared some small talk with the attendant, ending the conversation with a firm handshake.  
  
“I hope you’ll like it here in Inaba. Better late than never, right?”  
  
What had the attendant meant by that?  
  
After everyone had finished their business and climbed back into the car, Souji felt something throb in his head.  
  
“Are you alright, Big Bro?”  
  
“Y-Yeah, Little Sis. You don’t need to worry about me.” He smiled through the pain, trying his best not to upset Nanako any more on this solemn day.  
  
\---

**_Dojima_ ** _  
Chisato ~ Ryotaro  
1972-2010 ~ 1969-2011  
Loving wife and mother ~ Brave father and detective  
RIP_

  
It just didn’t seem real. The suffocating fog didn’t help. Souji didn’t remember the last time he saw his Uncle Ryotaro. This was how they were to meet again? All this way to Inaba, just to see a flower-wreathed photograph? All this way, just to see Nanako’s heart break?  
  
Souji was not a hateful person, but he wished right at that moment -- when Nanako put a small bouquet on the shrine and softly said, “I love you, Daddy.” -- that he could lay his hands on the son of a bitch who did this and just squeeze the life out of the monster. It wouldn’t bring back all those victims and it wouldn’t bring back Nanako’s daddy, but it sure would feel good and right.  
  
A disheveled young man came up to the Setas as Souji indulged in his little fantasy. The man extended a hand to Souji and introduced himself as Tohru Adachi, Dojima-san’s partner. Adachi winced a little as Souji shook his hand forcefully; Souji chided himself for taking his anger out on a total stranger.  
  
After some perfunctory pleasantries, Adachi explained to the Setas that even though the evidence had all pointed to Namatame being the killer, Dojima-san had his suspicions that Namatame wasn’t the real killer. Instinct, Dojima-san had said. He apparently got a lead and had cornered who he had thought was the real killer, but the killer must have outsmarted and overpowered Dojima-san.  
  
“Your Dad was a brave man, Nanako-chan.” Adachi smiled what Souji thought was a fake smile. “You can be proud of him.”  
  
Nanako just sniffled a little and clung a little tighter to Souji’s leg. Adachi turned to Souji’s mother and bowed.  
  
“It’s a shame, Seta-san, a damn shame. Dojima-san... Dojima-san was more than my partner, he was like a brother to me! We’ll find who did this, I swear!”  
  
Souji didn’t know a thing about this man Adachi, but the young detective’s limp handshake, rumpled suit, and inability to look him in the eye set Souji’s teeth on edge. If he didn’t know better, Souji would have said Adachi was almost smirking.  
  
\---  
  
That night they stayed at Uncle Ryotaro’s house, to save money on a hotel, to finish packing the rest of Nanako’s things, and to settle any remaining affairs before his parents sold the house.  
  
Souji was to stay in the spare room upstairs. When he crossed the threshhold, he felt an unsettling sense of deja-vu, like he had seen the place before. Like it was home. There were a few of Nanako’s toys lying on the ground that would need to be packed up in the morning. For the time being, he just cleared out a corner and spread out a dusty futon in order to get some much needed sleep.  
  
Souji hadn’t felt right all day. He supposed that was normal, having endured a long car ride from the city to Inaba, the heartwrenching pain of watching his dear Little Sis say her final farewells to her father, and the odd encounter he had with Adachi.  
  
Still, this wasn’t just normal tiredness. Had it been something he ate? He had felt alright when they left the house, all during the car trip, and then up to pulling into the gas station...  
  
Souji drifted off into a restless slumber.  
  
\---  
  
“Welcome... to the Velvet Room.”  
  
###


End file.
